Transformed
by artbug
Summary: Allen's Innocence ha dreturned to him; he was greatful... now if it would just let him rest. A brief oneshot by artbug.


Just a little oneshot. Not my favorite piece, but i discovered it on my hardrive yesterday and thought someone out there might like it.

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"Please…" Allen whispered, running his human hand over his newly reformed and returned Innocence. "Please… Mana, how do I make it stop? Please, make it stop…"

He was happy his Innocence was back. Of course he was happy; what else could it be? It returned to him. It was all he had wanted, all he had worked for. Everything he could have hoped for and so much more. More… that was the part that frightened him. It was back and it was so much more. It was terrible and it was wonderful.

Just like last time; it wouldn't let him die. It acted of its own accord and saved him, again. He was tired of being saved; tired of working so hard only to be pushed to the brink of death and saved. He didn't want to die, but he kept trying to; forcing himself too far, pushing too hard and taking far too many risks. He was scared; he was only fifteen. Deep down maybe he was trying to follow his Father. He missed him; especially on days like this when it was so hard to keep going.

Innocence was thrumming through his very veins; intense burning waves that resonated out through him with each beat of his heart. Crown Clown felt like a separate being when it took him. It _took_ him; there was no other way to describe the feeling of being so completely possessed. It acted without him, pulling itself from the air and from his heart as he lay dying for the second time. It gave him no choice but to move, to ride it out. He hadn't objected either. He happily let the otherness of it wash over him and force warmth into his cold limbs.

There had been ecstasy in it, purity and light like he had never felt before. He could still feel it and found himself overloaded with it. The pleasure was lasting so long that his body was beginning to confuse it with pain. So very good, it hurt.

"Stop doing this to me…" he gasped at the sensation of his own fingers on the new, overly sensitive skin. He couldn't stop touching it. "Work with me… I'm on your side…" he pleaded. Eyes blue like those of the blind slid shut and he bit his lip as he stroked the back of his hand. The gutted wound with its exposed shard of Innocence was gone, replaced by a smooth design. It was more like a tattoo now; though the rest of his hand was still a little rough, his arm was almost normal. It was smooth and, except for the discoloration, looked human. The Innocence seemed to have retreated deeper into his body, wedging itself into his very cells. It was truly inseparable now, unable to be escaped or avoided; even though it was no longer limited to his hand, he still felt it there acutely.

The second the science department finished his exam Allen had retreated to his room and locked the door. Everyone just had to touch his new arm, so many inquisitive hands on his skin. It had quickly become embarrassing. He almost wished those hands would discover the rest of his body as well; he had tried desperately to keep from showing them how badly it was affecting him. He was glowing with bliss and had smiled gently and lovingly at each and every one of them, making more than a few blush. Now back in the privacy of his room, he continued his own examination. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he groaned, half in pleasure, half in shame. He couldn't stop touching it. "Stop…" he begged his body. He didn't want to stop.

Crown Clown was singing to him. His Innocence was singing through him; song after song, all achingly familiar. It buzzed through him, like a thousand little hands running over his skin. He just wanted it to stop, or never stop; he wasn't sure what but he wanted it to do something... He had heard his curse speak to him before; it had spoken with Mana's voice in his head. It should have bothered him, but he connected his father's voice to a sense of safety. Hearing that soothing voice was one of his earliest memories; even now he would happily follow it deeper and deeper into the world of black and white. All it had to do was ask.

Crown Clown's voice was different, a little brighter; Mana's always seemed to have a hint of tired sickness in it. He vaguely believed his Innocence would harmonize with the voice of his curse if both were to talk at once. As far as his overwhelmed being could understand, it was trying to get him to relax and accept its renewed presence inside him. It wasn't overly invasive, just persistent. It was acting on its own. To try and calm him, Crown Clown was singing the lullabies Mana used to sing to him. Echo's of song in the language they made up together while traveling.

Allen remembered when they were running. Something had happened to make them leave the safety of their little apartment above the café. He remembered being sick and the kind old doctor they brought for him. He remembered hating Mana for it, blaming him for everything. Mana had cried and it scared him. Something had happened, but no matter how hard he wracked his brain he couldn't remember what. Mana had done something too, something bad. Suddenly they were running. They made up codes while they traveled, making a private language just between the two of them. It was fun; it took away some of the fear. Most of all it was special because they never told it to anyone else.

And now Crown Clown was using it too. That wasn't fair! It was Mana's and his language. Allen held it with a childish jealously. It wasn't for anyone else to know, much less use. It belonged to Mana and to him, no one else.

Allen gripped his wrist tightly and nearly saw stars. It doubled him over and before he even realized he was doing it, he had pulled his fingertips into his mouth. He tasted his own skin and felt sick and oh so very good. His Innocence seemed to rejoice at his attentions and thrummed and sang through his poor body with renewed energy. He was going to die from it; he was sure.

The singing had started faintly; just barely audible over the rush of blood in his ears when the Akuma made its appearance. It was stronger than any of the other monsters he had ever seen before. Its mere presence was agonizing. That horrible cord sliced through his flesh like a hot knife through butter. The force of it made him stumble back into the arms of the Asian Branch scientists.

They could only watch helplessly as the cord unwound and invaded Allen's body. He shuddered at the memory. One of them tried to remove it; when they tugged it roughly he had screamed "don't touch it!" He could feel it move inside him with the slightest jostle. It pushed and pulled itself deeper inside him like a living thing; individual strands unwinding from the core, moving and leaving no part of him free from invasion. He tried not to move too much, but each brush of cord against raw nerve or muscle made him wrack with little tremors. Each strand had divided and divided again, impossibly small until his pain hazed mind couldn't tell where his body ended and the cords began.

All at once, the Akuma activated it. Allen screamed in agony as each cord tore away, bringing with it microscopic bits of his body. Piece by piece the Akuma was taking him apart from the inside out. Instantly, he was out of breath; instantly, he was anemic. Instantly he knew this would kill him. No part of his body was spared; he felt the delicate tissues of his eyes, the flesh under his finger nails, his privates, and every part of him was victim to that cruel slicing cord. Each strand was distinct, but taken together they formed a cascade of pain; attach, pull, rend, tear, leave, return and repeat into oblivion. There was no escape.

It stopped; the cord was severed. He felt thin, light. He weighed nothing; but didn't have the strength to move. To his tired muscles he could have easily weighed a ton. They carried him as they ran. He could hear singing somewhere. His cursed left eye bled when he cried. He had to fight; there was no choice. He was nothing if not an Exorcist.

It became louder and louder as he fought the Akuma to save his friends. It wasn't even a fight; it was hopeless game of tag that he had no way of winning. He touched the wall hard and the loose bindings holding him together came free.

He shattered. For a moment he was too surprised to even scream, his whole body cracking along invisible fault lines. Air rushed into his chest, making it hard for the weakened structure of his lungs to draw breath.

The Akuma struck him with two more strands, redoubling its efforts to disassemble him. It was pain beyond comprehension. He screamed till he thought he would tear the remaining bits of his vocal cords to shreds; he was going to die here. It pushed him under the water and tore him apart.

Allen was vaguely aware of the icy water seeping in through the cracks in his body; it was a surreal sensation, the cold leeching into him from all the wrong directions. It filled his lungs, his throat, his head and still those horrible cords drilled into him. He couldn't feel anything; the blessed cold numbed everything and he finally stopped screaming. One hand was still above the water; it wasn't all that deep. It reached plaintively towards the ceiling. Awareness was dimming quickly.

He silently thanked God for the chance he had been given. Going after the Akuma in the condition he was in was suicide and still he had tried. He had lived for them, to save every pitiful soul trapped within an Akuma but he had strayed from his path; he prayed his friends would forgive him. More than anything he prayed Mana would come find him soon to take him home; he was so scared.

Allen watched with fascination as the last few tiny bubbles from his mouth hit the surface and pop. Everything dimmed to a pin point, before exploding outwards in an amazing rush of light and heat. He certainly wasn't dead. For one glorious moment, he knew everything. Like God himself had brushed against his consciousness, everything was laid bare for his view. Before him stretched the future and the past, everything that had already been and everything that had yet to happen. God's plans for each and every one of them were there for him to read. He felt like some divine toy being pulled around, God's own little clown.

For that one dizzying second, Allen had the sense of being nothing and everything at the same time. Just as suddenly as it had come the feeling left. There was no air where he was, but he was left gasping. He could feel Crown Clown move separate from him; it left his broken body there in the water and protected his friends and fought for them.

When Crown Clown decided it was safe enough it went back to him. Allen was lifted so carefully from the water and held as his Innocence rushed through him. It filled every bit of him gently, lovingly mending the cracks and replacing what the Akuma had taken. It was bliss, pure and sweet; he wept with the force of it, thankful the others couldn't see his face. Allen let go and let it repair him; he let it move him and finish off the Akuma.

"I'll save you…" he comforted the damaged shred of soul. It was then he fully realized what was happening to him. He would live for both. His right hand existed for humans; his left for the Akuma. Allen could love them both, save them all. It was love that kept his heart beating so strongly in his chest. Such love, it was pure; it was unconditional. It was God's love… and it terrified him; it was too much. He sent the Akuma back to God with a sharp touch like a blessing. It felt like a blessing.

He couldn't stop smiling; little waves of divinity were still rushing over his skin like an electrical current. His Innocence was singing to him, telling him how happy it was to have returned.

Now if he could just get it to stop… Allen pushed the memories out if his head and flopped back on his bed. He was exhausted; his whole being ached and his Innocence was running through him like a drug, blurring his mind.

Even when sleep pulled him under, there was no rest to be found. Crown Clown had found its way into his subconscious and sculpted strange dreams for him.

Allen dreamed of a park he didn't remember ever visiting in life, but it was so clear and perfectly formed in his mind that he was sure he must have been there before. "Hey!" a painfully familiar voice called him. "Allen… I know you're there; come on over! I have sandwiches…"

God in heaven… Mana. The voice of Father, and his curse made solid and tangible. Allen's heart leapt into his throat and he ran at full speed to the tree where he was leaning. "Mana?!" he rounded the trunk and slid to the ground. For a moment he was terrified.

Mana looked different than he remembered. This Mana was younger than he had been when Allen had known him. His hair was dark brown, his skin was tanned; he was healthy. "Allen… bugs are gonna crawl in your mouth if you leave it hanging open like that…" He handed him a sandwich. "Don't look so surprised… you knew I was here."

"I don't…"

Mana smiled; it was a sad smile. He brushed back some of his shaggy hair and tapped his forehead. The flesh rippled and pulled away. He wore Allen's curse hidden in his own flesh. It looked raw, painful; as if he had carved it himself. "You knew I was here…" he repeated. "I never left…"

"So you've been sitting here in my head…" Allen sat down and, unsure of what else to do, started eating.

"Not like that." The image of Mana drummed his fingers on the crust of his sandwich. "I'm… separate. Like a little splinter of soul from the original. I'm here but not really connected to you. I'm Mana's guilt for cursing you and his desire to protect you; his will I suppose. I'm just here… Don't worry; I can't read your thoughts or anything weird like that."

"That is weird…"

"I'm just here for you. Anytime you need me. I'm here."

Allen just stared at him. He never dreamed of Mana. He spoke to him all the time. His curse answered back using his voice, but he never connected it as being a part of Mana's consciousness left behind. _This is just a dream… I almost died today. It's nothing to freak out about_. Allen closed his eyes and felt arms settle around him.

"This is just a dream… I'm real, but this is isn't. Just take it for what it is and relax. Things have been difficult; you deserve a break. Come sit with me." Mana's soothing voice poured over him and Allen was struck with the pain of his loss all over again.

With no thought of how old he was or how silly it looked, Allen curled himself into Mana's lap like he did when he was small. "Mana…." He mumbled into the dream's shoulder. "I miss you so much!"

"Come on now…don't cry. I'm always here." He took Allen's shoulders and pushed away to look at him. "Just look at you…" he smiled. "I'm so proud…" he brushed a stray wisp of white hair from his face and traced his scar. Allen jumped at the touch. "I'm so sorry; I regretted it the moment I said it. I didn't know it would show like this… Sorry, I didn't have a lot of control at the time."

"Mana don't…" Allen held his hand in place over his scar. "It's fine… really. I don't mind. Its kept me safe because I can see them before anyone else can." He shut his eyes and relaxed into the man's embrace. It was safe here. "It wasn't your fault… I was the one who tried to bring you back."

"It wouldn't have worked even if he was normal…" a sing-song voice came from nowhere and a set of slender arms gently separated him away from Mana's safe grasp. A brief stab of sheer terror raced through him as he found himself pulled close to an unfamiliar body. "His kind isn't human enough to be made into an Akuma…" it laughed and the sound set Allen's nerves on fire.

"Shut up." Mana said with a hiss. "You just don't know how to shut up… let Allen rest already. He needs a break… especially from you…"

"Mana… what?" Allen managed. From the corner of his eye he could see the other's hair. It was wild and brown. "Please…" he tried not to let fear crack into his voice. "Who? Let me go…" he swallowed hard. "This is my mind, my dream… what are you and why are you here?"

"_Your_ dream?!" The voice was young, male. "Allen I'm hurt… you haven't figured it out yet." It laughed high and melodic, pure bliss. "Do you like it? I made it just for you… I wanted to meet you for so long." An arm loosened to wave at Mana. Allen recognized its gloves and the edges of its cloak. "All for you; I even brought the old man here for you." Mana frowned at them and looked away. "That's how he remembers himself looking. He hates me…" The thing pulled him closer; Allen could feel the cold press of a mask against his cheek and the hot bare skin where it ended. "He hates me… blames me. Says I made you hurt… says I tortured you…"

"It did, Allen." Mana said firmly.

"You did…" Allen whispered, too scared to try and move. His Innocence was much stronger than him. "My childhood was hell because of you…" He breathed deep and tried to remember that he was just dreaming; his Innocence wasn't going to hurt him, not on purpose. It only hurt if he fought it; he would never fight it. He was grateful it returned. "Still… I'm glad you've come back to me."

"Ah!" it laughed joyously. "I'm glad you figured it out!" it hugged him tightly and nuzzled his face. The edge of the mask was sharp against his skin. "Oh Allen I'm so happy to be back. I was so lonely without you." It talked quickly and Allen could recognize some of his own voice mixed with its words. "I was worried you wouldn't be able to handle it when we re-synchronized. I couldn't try and take you back until you were strong enough. You were amazing, I watched everything! Even without me you went to the Akuma. Then when you were dying, I knew I couldn't wait any longer. I was either going to mend you or burn you up… was it good?"

Allen yelped with surprise when his Innocence peppered his cheek with furious little kisses. There was no lust in them; it was like an affectionate child at the return of a favorite relative or an energetic puppy greeting its owner. It was still unnerving. Mana scowled at them.

"I was worried it would hurt you when I returned…" its hands were everywhere, hungry and exploring, desperate for contact. "So I tried to make it good for you." His Innocence explained. "Did I do good?" it was even starting to sound like a child, seeking praise. "Allen? Look at me ok."

Allen was suddenly released. He nearly fell over when his Innocence reappeared before him. It was like looking in a mirror; if certain events had never happened. If he had been born with a normal arm, if a night in the grave yard hadn't left him scarred and his hair and eyes bleached from color; this was Allen as he was meant to look, not how the world had shaped him to be. "You look like me… but, not." It leaned forward for Allen to examine it. Gently he pushed back the hood of its cloak and with it removed the half mask from its face. It was almost painful to see.

His Innocence was wild, so bright and alive. Allen was a ghost beside it. Its brown hair stuck up at all angles as if caught up in an invisible wind. Its face was flushed and healthy; its brown eyes were wide and bright. They didn't know fear or sadness; they shone with excitement and confidence. It couldn't stop smiling. "I look like you because I'm part of you… always have been." It giggled and rolled to lie on the ground. Its head rested in Allen's lap and hands reached up to lightly explore his face. "I'm more now… not sure how, but I'm so much more… For so long I just existed. No matter how hard I tried I couldn't make you hear me. You fought me so hard then… I only wanted to make you hear me. You wouldn't let me tell you what we needed to do." It smiled up at him and Allen was taken aback by the love in its eyes. "I'm sorry, for every time I hurt you or made you suffer… I'm sorry. I've _evolved_ now. I'm _aware_; I have a _name_… I can _talk_…finally I can talk to you; Allen, my closest, my dearest, my host. I can finally think and speak…"

"You can't shut up either." Mana snapped and tossed a bit of sandwich at them. "You've been driving Allen mad with your singing… and I'm not too thrilled with it either. Allen, if you want me to beat him senseless I will."

"Don't listen to him Allen!" it turned and stuck out its tongue at Mana. "Old man hates me… because I look like you, it makes him mad. He's in a bad mood because I look so much like you and he can't touch me."

"Mana," Allen looked over to where he still sat by the tree. "You can't touch him? Why? You're both here…" and this is a dream…

"Look!" His Innocence disappeared into a dark fog and solidified next to Mana. "See… I can't even get too close." It held out a graceful hand and the man lurched away as if he'd been burned. It laughed and tried again. It was like watching two magnets repel each other. "Come on…" it taunted. "Catch me!"

Mana made a frustrated noise and reached out fast enough to snag its wrist. They both yelped at the contact. Allen rushed to them. Mana's palm and fingers were blackened. His Innocence was staring at his wrist where the fabric of his glove had been burned through. "I don't understand…" Allen held Mana's hand gently.

"Think Allen…" His Innocence wasn't laughing anymore. The mask had returned to its face and the hood to its head. Both arms had elongated to the elegant blades of Crown Clown. "What destroys Innocence? What can control the Akuma?"

Allen's blood turned to ice in his veins. "Maaahnaaah…" he whimpered. Despite, the surge of terror he clung harder to his father. Mana's arms wrapped around him tightly enough to hurt, but he didn't care.

"I didn't know." The man said. "I didn't, not until recently." He swallowed hard and his voice caught. "Its how I didn't kill you that night… I could control it if I embraced it. I didn't want to hurt you. It's how the curse I gave you was so strong; I… think I am…"

"Don't say it!" Allen shouted into his shirt. "I don't want to hear it!"

"Allen…" Mana sighed and carded his fingers through his hair. "I didn't even know it. I… we all had a choice. I made mine. I stayed human… I never fully awakened, the others did. Pity them Allen. They were human. But show them no mercy. They made their choice."

"Mana…" he wanted to cry. "If you were… why didn't I know it? You could have destroyed my Innocence at any time…"

"How could I ever do anything to hurt you?!" he stammered. "I didn't know anything about it! I made my choice!" Mana looked him straight in the eyes; they didn't waver. "I chose to stay human at all costs… because I had you."

Behind him Allen's Innocence snorted. "He lies. He transformed once… I can see his mind like I can see yours. He did… he transformed, he killed and he liked it. You should have seen it." Its sharp bladed fingers plunged into the tree trunk, close enough to Mana's head to make him flinch. "He laughed. He tortured another human being and laughed… look at him Allen, he won't deny it. Look at his eyes."

Horrified, Allen stared at Mana's face. His tanned skin was darker than it should have been. His hair seemed more black than brown in the shade of the tree. Mana for once didn't meet his eyes.

"Show me…" he whispered. Carefully Allen brushed back the hair from his face. Mana sighed and tapped his forehead. Again the crudely carved copy of Allen's curse appeared, with it came the horrible and familiar crown of thorns. "Oh… Mana, no…"

"Allen…"

"No." Allen said firmly. "I won't accept this… I won't!"

His Innocence was beside him, tugging gently at his arm. "No…" Allen turned to it. He grabbed its hand and pulled it down. "I don't care…" This was Mana, the man who raised him, loved him as his own. It was still the same person.

"Allen…" His curse and his Innocence spoke in unison and Allen froze. Their voices harmonized.

"Again…" he whispered. They glared at each other, but obeyed. The sound made goose bumps break out over his skin. "I can have both worlds…" he whispered. With a little shiver he pulled both other figures into his arms, collecting them in a group hug. "Through me… peace…"

There was no negative reaction when they touched, only peace. It startled him awake. The dream slid from his mind like water from his fingers; he remembered nothing.

Through him there was balance. Allen was equal parts blessed and cursed, both light and dark, good and evil, human and not. He was all and nothing, life and death, savior and destroyer. He walked in both worlds, but he belonged to neither.

His Innocence had seemed to settle. _Nap was all I needed…_ he thought, still feeling a bit off, but rested. His stomach growled loudly. _And food…_ he stretched and hurried to the dining hall.


End file.
